Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1887-03-27

them" he said.
well, sometimes / get tangled up be-
tween the actually Of the present and the
Of the possible. But that's all a
loke compared to the fundamental archie
types Of sociology. That's what floors me,
you know. They Just pour out their souls
upon the fundamental archetypes Of soci-
well, don't stop 'emr'
81 don't intend to. But / would like to
choke of their blessed bOsh, now and then,
if l could. The fun Of it is, they fancy they
understand another. If you outside,
vox populi, don't understand, then 20 much
the worse for your
He laughed again, but said nothing. 1t
was JOY and perfect peace only to be near
her, to hear her voice. 1t seemed to be q
relief from embarrassment for her to run
on. She asked him:
DO you mean to say you are not here
to attend the observation-disclosures
instituted"
He seemed a little confused.
'.No, no." he said; 81 am only here Tor
two DAYS, on private business. Let me see
the report you make, Shirley; how long Is
it,"
She smiled merrily and held up the
bundle of paper she had covered. How
long is il? All day long"
He would not talk of himself. He only
said he had been in the west, and had been
busy all these years. -,
Tell me what has happened in LinwoOd, y
he aid. Il have not heard a word from it
since / left. 1 thought you would have
been married long ago, Shirley"
She looked at him q little reproaehtully;
then suddenly, as at the thought of all she
had lost since he left her to come back, a
shadow of grief and pain came over her
bright sweet face. She told him OF her
fathers terrible death, of the loss OF her
fortune, of how she vas in his old place as
teacher.
/ write for newspapers, too" she said,
Frightening again. II condense solemn In
formation from agricultural reports for the
readers of the Morning Herald. l can tell
YOU to a dot, too, what effect the new dog
law is going to have on the politics oil
the state"
But why do you not write your pOeTu?''
She flushed slightly. Mother is an in
valid" she said. 1--WE need so many
things. must do all | can to get money.
II have so much TO look after. 1t seems
rs though | never get time to commence
nv poem. But | have moi gwen 1t up, Mr..
Morrison. Don't think thai"
Her voice quivered a little.
The master read and perceived.
81 see it ALL" he said sadly. You are
flther and mother and bread winner to
them all. l never looked for this for you.
NV dear girl, my poor Shirley"
He stroked her hair softly, and with in
finite tenderness.
Mr.. Morrison fingered on from day to
day. He seemed not to be able to break
the light chains that held him there. Yet
he appeared restless and i'll at ease. He
spoke of going from day to day, though he
did not 90. He was reserved and kept apart
from the rest.
But he lowered about Shirley always,
oppressiyely, but Just enough. He
wrote half her reports for her. He had the
fine graceful tact, the polished ease of man
ner of n who knows Just what to do in
the right place. He knew and met her
every wish, almost before it was formed.
He never seemed to be looking for her, hut
ever his eyes sought hers with messages OF
courage and sympathy.
Shirley was in n paradise. 1t was so
strangely sweet to her, the lonely girl, to
find somebody who thought she needed
help and sympathy. II lis the doom Of those
who spend their lives caring for others, that
none ever fancy they themselves need to be
taken care of.
Little things are much to u woman, very
much.
1t was the first time since her father died
that anybody had taken a thought Of Shir-
ley's happiness and comfort. In SIX years
il had occurred to nobody that she had
little wants or wishes of her own.
Therefore was this human sympathy I'M
speakably sweet to her.
The world shaking deliberations OF the
Observation-Disclosures drew to close.
The last afternoon these phOsphOric intel
lects so far forgot their mission rs to have
q picnic. One bushes to record it. They
amused themselves. Many went on boat
excursions over the lake.
shirley" said Mr.. Morrison, II want
to come with me this evening. This
IS the last. Wear your white dress, too,
and put a rose in your hair. That Is how
| wish to remember you. | am to have you
Ill to myself this evening, mind"
He led her TO the beach and seated her
IN a little skiH. He took the oars himself,
With a few powerful strokes they shot out
INTO the mOOulit lake.
II have found a place along the lake that
want to show you" he said. Il think
will please YOU
In half an hour he had tied the boat at
he shore in the deep hollow of a tiny cres-
,ent hay. A cluster OF beautiful trees
there. Near by brook tumbled over
cliff, and then gathered itself up and went
N again into the lake. The summer wind
.urmured low among the trees. The min
allure waterfall murmured back in music.
The drops of water made q million white
lights in the mOOnbeams. All was cool
and reStful.
Shirley clasped her hands with delight.
How lovelvl How lovely this ism
II thought you would like it, said the
master, quietly.
All that afternoon they had been near
each other. In company with two or three
Of the learned lights, they had gone botan-
picnicing, naturalizing, and Lord
what. 1t had been. a way, like the
days of LinwOOd, yet different.
Yes there was q difference now.
Little matter was il that they had not been
alone. They were happier, perhaps, on
that account. The sweet, subtle sympathy
that Joined them could well he left uuspo.
ken. The silver line stretched between
them, invisible to all but themselves.
They found a seat beneath the beauti'
full trees.
Shirley sat in silence, with her hands
clasped in her lap, and looked out at
the water and moonlight.
This has been the happiest day OF my
life. " said Mr.. Morrison, at length.
And mine, too" replied Shirley, hardly
knowing what she said.
He leaned toward her till his head
touched the rose in her hair. Was it the